


"I’m Not Alone"

by Jantique



Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode: s10e09 Devil's Trifecta, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantique/pseuds/Jantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Well, what about you?” Diane asked softly. “Don’t you think there’s somebody out there for you, or are you destined to spend the rest of your days alone?”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Gibbs smiled, pulled on his NCIS cap, thought, ‘What the hell’, and said, “I’m not alone.”</i></p><p> </p><p>And what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I’m Not Alone"

**Author's Note:**

> This episode just screamed for a coda, am I right or am I right? I expect to see LOTS of them! This is my take. Italics in the beginning are quotations from the show.

_“Well, what about you?” Diane asked softly. “Don’t you think there’s somebody out there for you, or are you destined to spend the rest of your days alone?”_

_Gibbs smiled, pulled on his NCIS cap, thought, ‘What the hell’, and said, “I’m not alone.”_

 

When Diane left, Gibbs waited in the basement. He was expecting someone else. After a minute, he heard the front door open, and steps moving toward the basement door. Tim McGee appeared, looking hesitant and uncertain.

“Uh, Boss?”

“McGee,” Gibbs acknowledged. “You wait for Diane to leave?”

“Yeah, I, uh, I thought you’d probably want to talk alone.”

“Good thinking.” He eyed McGee, who hadn’t moved from the top of the stairs. “Well, you gonna stay up there all night, or you coming down here?”

McGee considered for a split-second, as if he actually had a choice. Deciding that he didn’t, he walked slowly down the stairs, and even more slowly towards Gibbs. Obviously, something was wrong, and it bothered Gibbs that he didn’t know what.

“Tim? What’s wrong?” 

“Um, Jethro, you know that, I mean, you have to believe, uh, nothinghappenedbetweenDianeandme!”, he blurted out in a rush. He looked miserable.

Gibbs smiled. He hadn’t caught every word, but he had a pretty good idea what McGee was talking about. He couldn’t resist teasing.

“So, you’re not planning on asking Diane out? Night at the movies, maybe, then back to her place?”

“NO!” McGee was clearly horrified. “Absolutely not! I wouldn’t--”

McGee in a panic was cute, but it was really too cruel. Gibbs chuckled. “Relax, Tim, I’m just pulling your chain. I know you didn’t make a move on Diane.”

“Oh! So you believe me!” His relief was evident.

“Yeah, I believe you. C’mere.” He held out his arms, and Tim came into them, laying his head on Gibbs’ shoulder. “Although, you know, Fornell is convinced you two did the nasty.”

“Don’t care about him,” Tim mumbled, not moving. “He’s not my….” His voice trailed off. They had never defined their relationship in so many words. He knew that he loved Jethro, and believed that Jethro loved him back. But Gibbs was a man of action, not words, and he’d never said, not in so many words.

But now, he did. Holding Tim close, he mused, “Well, I’m too old to be anyone’s _boyfriend_. Lover? I dunno. It’s too romantic, like Romeo and Juliet. I love you, Tim. But you know me—I’m not romantic.” He then proceeded to blow _that_ theory right out of the water by saying, “Hmm. Maybe the problem is, Diane thought you were available. I’ve noticed a lot of people thinking that. You’re good-looking and smart and funny, they see no ring on your finger, and think they can hit on you.”

Tim shook his head _, No, no one hits on me. You’re the one…_. But before he could say a word, Gibbs continued, “Maybe the word you’re looking for should be ‘fiancé’.”

 _WHATTHEFUCK_?!! Tim pulled away from Jethro and stared at him in shock. Gibbs looked back steadily. Before he could close his mouth or otherwise pull himself together, Gibbs added, “You know my marriage record, Tim; it’s not something to be proud of. But hell, if it doesn’t work with you, it’s never going to work again.”

He gently cupped his hands around Tim’s face, looked him in the eyes, and said, “I heard a song on the radio. I think it went, ‘If you like it, you should put a ring on it.’ I’m willing to give it one more chance, Tim. Will you? _Will_ you?”

Of the thousand thoughts swirling in Tim’s head, the one that came out of his mouth was, “But I’m not a redhead!” He immediately blushed. _So stupid, McGee_!

But Gibbs chuckled and said, “Yeah, I noticed that. Would you mind dyeing your hair? Not scarlet or anything, just a nice, deep red. It would look good on you.” He _almost_ kept a straight face as he said it. 

But this time Tim was onto him. And the brain was—finally—back in action. He removed Jethro’s hands from his face and clasped them between his own hands.

He said seriously, “YES, Jethro, if you mean it, I will marry you. And NO, I am not dyeing my hair red or blue or any other color. Listen to me, Leroy Jethro Gibbs:  _No_. _More_. _Redheads_. You got that?”

Gibbs considered it. Not seriously, but he didn’t want to give in too easily. Tim’s hand swiftly reached around, delivering a Gibbs-worthy headslap that knocked his hat off.

Gibbs winced. “Sorry! No more redheads—got it!”

Tim grinned. “Good! Now where were we?” As long as his hand was back there, he cradled his _fiancé’s_ head with it, and drew him in for a kiss, which started out chaste but quickly became passionate.

Finally, Gibbs pulled back. “Tim…ah…nice as this is, I’m too old to have sex on a sawhorse. I need a bed.”

“Well, come on, then!” Tim took his hand and led him toward the stairs. As he started up, still holding Jethro’s hand, he casually said, “You know, I think we should invite Diane to our wedding.”

 _What_?! Gibbs growled. “That’s not a funny joke, McGee!”

McGee blithely continued, “Well, she _did_ get you to finally propose to me!”

This was true, but—“Fine, I’ll send her flowers. Or a fruit basket. But she is _not_ invited!”

Tim just smiled and led his lover up the stairs. Then they went upstairs and practiced assiduously for the wedding night. The next morning, waking up in the gray half-light before dawn, Gibbs felt the warm body next to him, amazed at the wonder that he could still love, still be loved, and thought, ‘ _I’m not alone_.’ And he was so, so grateful.

 

END

 

 


End file.
